Where Lies The Honour?
by Gary Merchant
Summary: A Sontaran begins to question the worth of the Empire
1. Default Chapter

WHERE LIES THE HONOUR?  
  
Chapter 1  
  
"Target obliterated."  
  
The Lieutenant waited for his Commander's next order. When no such order was forthcoming, he half-turned. "Commander?" No answer. He rose from his seat and moved toward the command deck. The Commander was seated, staring blankly ahead. "Commander. Commander Styne!"  
  
With an effort, Commander Styne turned away from the view port. "Report, Lieutenant Varg."  
  
"The last Iargan ship has been destroyed, Commander."  
  
Styne nodded. "Survivors?"  
  
"None, Commander."  
  
"As to be expected. Return to your duties." As Varg did so, Commander Styne, serving officer of the Sontaran Empire, sat back in his chair, recalling the last few moments of battle.  
  
The Iargans were not a warlike race, and had no chance of surviving an attack against the Sontarans. Termed a lesser species from information received, they were still prepared to defend their world against possible invasion.  
  
In the wake of the battle, none of the Iargan fleet had survived. But they had died a glorious death . . . hadn't they?  
  
"When do we claim their planet for the Empire?" Varg asked, breaking Styne's reverie.  
  
He turned to face his Lieutenant. "Tell me, Varg. Why do we fight?"  
  
It was a standard question with a standard answer. "For the might of the Sontaran Empire."  
  
"Yes," Styne continued, "but apart from that, why do we fight?"  
  
Varg remained silent, staring at his superior officer. "I do not understand," he finally replied.  
  
"No matter." Styne rose from his chair. For some reason he wanted to be away from the carnage he had just witnessed. "I shall be in my quarters. I do not wish to be disturbed."  
  
"Very good, Commander." Varg took his place in the command chair.  
  
"And Varg."  
  
"Commander?"  
  
There was a pause. "The Iaragans can be left to lick their wounds. There is no benefit in claiming their world."  
  
"But . . . "  
  
"And do not seek to engage in further confrontations." Varg stared at his Commander in confusion. Styne met his gaze. "Those are my orders, Lieutenant. See that they are carried out."  
  
*****  
  
Styne removed the socket from his probic vent, having recharged his energies. However, the brief euphoria of the charge was soon replaced by a feeling he did not recognise, but had been with him for some months. He searched for a human analogy to describe it, and could not. Dispirited, he lay back on his bunk.  
  
'We always fight in the name of the Sontaran Empire,' he thought, 'but if that were taken away from us, would we continue? And what would we fight for in its place?  
  
'And is the Empire a worthy cause to fight for?' Styne rose sharply at that thought. How could he dare to think so? But, he reasoned, what if the thought has already become reality? 'Can it be that we have fought for so long, that we forget the true meaning of honour?' And in that moment, Styne at last put a name to the feelings he was now experiencing. For the first time, a Sontaran warrior was sensing doubt.  
  
But rather than dismiss it out of hand, Styne realised he wanted to understand, to learn. And there was only one place he could perform such a function. He switched on his communicator. "Varg. Set course for Sontara - for home."  
  
*****  
  
In the dwelling that humans would term as a 'home', Styne could at last free himself of the armour he almost continually wore, exchanging the constricting uniform for looser garments. This was a privilege rarely accorded to a Sontaran; only those of sufficient rank and stature were allowed such comforts. On the other hand, a dwelling was considered more of a necessity than for reasons of comfort. Only in recent years had it been accepted that warriors of all races required a break from the relentless war, so that they might returned refreshed to the battle - an energy release to the probic vent was no longer deemed sufficient on its own for military needs.  
  
By the time the War Wheel had returned to Sontara, Styne was resolute. One thing was certain - he dared not speak to anyone openly, so instead kept his own council while he formulated a plan.  
  
Had doubt ever surfaced in the Sontaran race before? It was certain that problems fo a similar nature would have been dealt with. Permanently. That was the Sontaran way. Styne knew he would have to tread carefully, or meet the same fate as his fellows.  
  
Ever since his hatching from the racepool, Styne had had instilled in him the complexities, strategies and knowledge of the Sontaran/Rutan war, as well as information on other species in relation to their world's strategic location should a military occupation be initiated. From that time through his progression through the ranks to that of Commander, he had never once doubted his place in the scheme of things. Until recently.  
  
He could think of no specific moment when this had occurred, but of late, irrational thoughts had begun to filter into Styne's brain. Thoughts that no Sontaran dare admit for fear of being seen as a danger to himself and to the racepool.  
  
Styne's mind kept coming back to that - the racepool. Could the answer lie there?  
  
*****  
  
The summons had been totally unexpected. Although, Styne reflected later, it was the only course of action to be taken under the circumstances. Back in uniform, he stood rigidly to attention, waiting for the Grand Marshall to acknowledge him. "At ease, Commander," he said finally.  
  
Styne relaxed, which was barely noticeable. He knew what was coming.  
  
"I have received a report from Lieutenant Varg on your recent patrol in the Iargan sector." He handed the report to Styne. "I seek clarification on some points."  
  
"Yes, Grand Marshall." Styne looked at the report without reading it.  
  
"If Varg is to be believed," the Grand Marshall continued, "you left your command post, and ordered that no further confrontations should be engaged." Styne said nothing, his face unreadable. "Such conduct is unusual. Explain."  
  
"I believed no tactical advantage could be gained by remaining in the sector," Styne replied. "We had destroyed the remaining ships of the Iargan fleet, and to remain there seemed . . . illogical and tactically unsound."  
  
"I see." The Grand Marshall paused. "I could accept your reasoning, were it not for the fact that you then chose not to claim the Iargan planet for the Empire. Can you explain that?"  
  
"Again, purely tactical," Styne answered. "Their planet offered no advantage to ourselves or the Rutan. Far better to have the Iargans recognise the might of the Sontarans, as a warning to others."  
  
The Grand Marshall regarded Styne for a moment. "Very well," he said at last. "The matter is closed - for the moment, Styne. Dismissed!"  
  
*****  
  
Back in his dwelling, Styne pored over his meeting with the Grand Marshall. While it had been clearly intended as a warning, his superior had unwittingly brought to the fore matters that Styne had only briefly considered, but were now out in the open.  
  
For some time, Sontaran patrols had journeyed to other star systems in a show of strength. Battles had been fought and won, but with no obvious advantage to show for their efforts; in many instances, these forays had taken place well outside the recognised borders, where no one had heard of either Sontaran or Rutan. So where was the benefit to the war, other than the subjugation of other species?  
  
It was time to find some answers. Styne activated his personal vid-link. "Access racepool records."  
  
"ACCESSED."  
  
"Search personal records regarding hatching, cross referenced with cloned Sontarans created at that time." Styne had the beginnings of a theory, but needed to clarify certain rumours. "Search under 'Tiger Moth'."  
  
The response was immediate. "TIGER MOTH: SOLAR YACHT BOARDED BY SONTARAN PATROL IN SEARCH FOR RUTAN AGENT. AGENT TERMINATED BY SOLAR YACHT CAPTAIN LISA DERRANE."  
  
A Rutan terminated by a human? Styne was curious. "Explain involvement of human captain."  
  
"HUMAN CAPTAIN AND CREW COLLABORATED WITH SONTARAN PATROL TO DESTROY RUTAN AGENT." It was certainly conceivable that humans and Sontarans could work together, as long as the humans knew their place. However, the next sentence threw Styne completely. "COMMANDER STEG SAVED LIFE OF CAPTAIN DURRANE."  
  
Styne read the remainder of the report, which chronicled a further meeting with the human Derrane, and Commander Steg's subsequent death. So, the rumours had been true. Humans allied with Sontarans in a common cause. But why save the life of a worthless human? Styne was about to terminate the vid-link when he noticed a sub file. He opened it.  
  
The file contained a report of a Sontaran Commander who had mysteriously vanished at the height of battle, only to reappear some time later. Details of his death were variable and contradictory, but there was mention of an audio recording made during his last moments of life. The recording was believed destroyed, but this remained unconfirmed.  
  
An additional detail concerned Styne. Though close to death at the time, the Commander had actually died from the energy blast of a sidearm. And though attempts had been made to disguise its origin, it was proved to be a sidearm of Sontaran manufacture. And it had been fired at close range.  
  
To be continued . . . 


	2. Chapter 2

Another detail all but forgotten was the fact that Commander Steg was of the same biological imprint as Styne - they had been born from the same hatching. In all probability, perhaps this unknown Commander had come from the same clutch. With the Sontaran race reproduced by cloning, it was perhaps inevitable that certain characteristics would be common to each hatching. Could it follow that memories might also be shared? That certain definitive moments could touch a Sontaran brood? Styne was prepared to accept the possibility.  
  
But now he was forced to accept something of far greater concern. That a Sontaran would murder one of its own kind, then attempt to cover up the crime. If Styne accepted this, then more questions opened up before him. What was on that audio recording? Could its contents have damaged the Empire in some way? But then, why conceal the crime? The more Styne thought about it, the more he realised that to find the answers he wanted, he would have to dig much deeper.  
  
Over the next few days, Styne exhausted numerous sources to learn more about the Tiger Moth incident and the murder of an unnamed Sontaran Commander. Of the former there was a wealth of information which Styne sifted through methodically. But of the latter there was scant material available. A preliminary search revealed just how thorough the cover-up had been, so he had to avoid going through official channels.  
  
There was only one option left.  
  
*****  
  
Long ago on Sontara, there had been an uprising. When the scientific breakthrough of cloning Sontaran warriors had been introduced, many raised violent objections. The main concern had been the loss of individuality. Arguments for both points of view were put forward, tossed back and forth, until there was deadlock. Though many agreed to the process, others refused. They became known as Purebloods, allowed to live their own lives. Without the benefit of the cloning process, the Purebloods mutated, grew taller and gained more humanoid features. Their former brothers turned away in disgust. Pureblood was a name to be quickly forgotten - officially they didn't exist. But they continued to scrounge a meagre existence and in later years became known as the Myo.  
  
And in a long forgotten quarter of the city, it was the Myo that Styne now faced. A dozen of them surrounded him, all dressed in threadbare robes of sackcloth. Faced with their imposing stature a lesser person might have run, but Styne knew the ritual and waited.  
  
"Who approaches the Myo?" called their leader.  
  
"I do," Styne intoned.  
  
"State your business," the leader declared. "Then we will decide if you are worth our time."  
  
"I am Styne. I seek information. I seek . . . " he faltered, but only for a moment. "I seek the truth."  
  
A hush fell across the group. Then the circle parted, and the leader stepped forward. The cowl he wore was pulled back, revealing an almost human face. Only the grey pallor and high forehead testified to their Sontaran origins. "You seek truth, Styne," he noted. "What truth?"  
  
Styne had been expecting such a question. "The truth that has been lost. The truth of honour."  
  
The leader smiled. "Then you are welcome. I am Lar. Join us here, and tell your story." Styne joined the group, sitting among them. It was strange. He felt more relaxed here than he had ever known. It made telling his experiences of the last few days that much easier to relate. He left nothing out; from his first feelings of doubt to the reports he had uncovered and the answers he had so far obtained. When he had finished, Lar's face was troubled. "I had never thought our race would fall so low."  
  
"You speak as though you fear the worst," Styne observed.  
  
"As you yourself must also believe," Lar answered, "or you would not be here now."  
  
Styne nodded. "It is true. That is why I have come to you."  
  
"Make your request and we shall do all that we can," Lar promised.  
  
"The report on the unnamed Commander refers to an audio recording."  
  
"Supposedly destroyed."  
  
"That is what I need to know," Styne decided. "That recording, if it exists, may hold the answers I seek."  
  
"What will you do with the information?" Lar wondered.  
  
"That will depend on what the information is." Styne rose to his feet. "I must go now." The next words were foreign to a Sontaran. "Thank you."  
  
He walked away then turned back. "Lar, a question. How can you live here?"  
  
Lar smiled. "We exist, we survive. For us, that is enough."  
  
Styne nodded. "I wish it could have been enough for me."  
  
*****  
  
The next few weeks were tortuous for Styne. Outwardly, he was a model Commander, carrying out his duties. Inside, his mind was in a turmoil, waiting for answers that may or may not come. Further meetings with the Myo helped to ease the waiting - meetings which stripped away half-truths and retoric, revealing a knowledge of a forgotten strand of Sontaran culture. Over time, the Myo had rejected war and instead lived a simple life of peace and contemplation. That was not to say that they disregarded the use of technology altogether. It was through this that they maintained their covert network of contacts, occasionally called upon to investigate certain 'irregularities' within the Sontaran heirachy. But they never interfered - unless someone like Styne openly approached them. That was their life.  
  
It was now that Styne appreciated his dwelling even more. Before it been an imposition, a slight upon his command, but now it was a welcome haven from the world outside. He had changed much, and welcomed those changes.  
  
On the next day the vid-link screen activated. An encoded message, audio only. "I hope this is what you wanted," came Lar's voice, forestalling any reply Styne might have offered. Then came a pre-recorded signal. Styne recognised it at once. He would need to move quickly.  
  
*****  
  
In the forgotten quarter, Styne waited impatiently. Dressed in a similar robe to the Myo, he blended in well with the surroundings. But of the Myo there was no sign. Something was wrong.  
  
A slight movement on the ground ahead caught his eye. As he moved towards it, Styne recognised the figure lying there. "Lar!" He bent down to see if there was anything he could do, but the troopers had been very thorough.  
  
"Styne." It was no more than a whisper, but Styne reached for Lar's hand and held it tight. He leaned forward to hear the words. "Do not fear for me . . . the Myo are safe . . . "  
  
"Lar, why did you sacrifice yourself?"  
  
"Because what you hold in your hand is worth more than my life." Styne didn't understand immediately. Then he opened the hand that held Lar's, revealing a wrist communicator. Quickly pocketing the item in his robe, Styne turned back to Lar, but it was too late. The leader of the Myo was dead.  
  
A range of emotions coursed through the Sontaran Commander, many that had never been allowed to surface before. But this one act of violence against someone who was once a brother Sontaran filled Styne's heart with feelings he had previously seen in humans, and was now experiencing them himself - shame, anger and ultimately a pain deep inside that would never leave him. Styne finally understood the feeling of grief.  
  
"I shall honour you, Lar," Styne promised. "On my oath as a Sontaran, you will be avenged!"  
  
To be continued . . . 


	3. 3

Chapter 3  
  
For a long time Styne held the communicator in his hand, staring at it. The concept of sacrifice had been ridiculed in Sontaran circles - there was no point to it, no understanding. And if it could not be understood, then it was of no concern. But now, after recent events and having witnessed Lar's selfless act, Styne could now appreciate the irony and was determined to make good his promise to his fallen brother.  
  
Though he felt responsible, he would not blame himself for Lar's death. He could not, for the blame lay with those who had seen fit to conceal a murder on their own planet, and justified the deaths of others under the name of the Empire. And that Empire was now tainted.  
  
Styne examined the communicator more closely. Various touch keys sat below a mini-screen. The basic principle for operating it was standard. He activated it, and keyed in the appropriate functions. Styne hadn't expected too many problems with it, but he paused at the request for a password. 'Now, Lar would have prepared for this,' he thought. 'Something obvious, but only to those who knew him.' He keyed in STYNE.  
  
ACCESS DENIED  
  
He tried again; SONTARAN.  
  
ACCESS DENIED  
  
He thought for a moment, then remembered. TRUTH  
  
CONFIRMED  
  
A myriad of colours lit up the mini-screen as the computer searched through numerous servers and displays. Finally the colours dispersed to reveal two unnamed files. Styne opened the first one. This was a visual file, and the screen changed to show the smiling face of Lar.  
  
"Styne. I decide to record this message in case . . . in case there was trouble. You were correct, the recording did survive. The quality is not perfect, but I believe you will know what to do once you hear it. If we do not meet again, my brother, always remember to follow the correct path and the truth will guide you." The screen went blank.  
  
Styne nodded. "Yes, Lar. I shall follow that path." Nonetheless, he paused before opening the second file. Then he remembered Lar's sacrifice, and the file was activated.  
  
As expected, the quality of the recording was patchy at best. Unmistakable sounds of battle echoed from the tiny speaker. But the words came through clearly enough. "I have a confession to make," came the voice of the Sontaran Commander. "During the battle I deserted my post, but it was not of my choosing. An alien captured myself, a human and a Draconian. Its purpose was to test our abilities. The strongest would be allowed to survive." Styne listened in rapt attention. "Instead the three of us worked together to defeat our common foe. Yes, we worked together.  
  
"The human and the Draconian behaved with honour. Can it be that such opposing races are not so different? Could a co-existence be possible? I only knew them for a short time, but I find my perceptions have changed."  
  
A few seconds of static burst through the audio for a moment, then it cleared. Just from the sound, Styne could tell that the Commander was in his last moments of life. The gasping breaths were interspersed with the sound of someone approaching. The footsteps halted, and Styne realised that this newcomer was standing over the fallen Commander.  
  
The sound of a Sontaran sidearm screamed across the air, ending a life. Then a crack of metal under a trooper's boot broke the microphone. But instead of ending the recording, it continued. "Sontaran scum," came a new voice. "I might have expected better from you, but such a slur against the Sontaran Empire cannot go unpunished."  
  
Styne halted the recording. Disbelief, followed by uncertainty and doubt hung over him like a dead weight. The stark reality, for so long hidden away under decades of false myth and legend, was revealed. Any remaining doubts on Styne's part were now replaced by a steely resolve. "I know my duty - and my honour. I shall not fail."  
  
*****  
  
Lieutenant Varg was troubled. Ever since he had given his report on the Iargan incident, he had kept his distance from Commander Styne. The two of them had worked together for some time, and to report those events had seemed like a betrayal.  
  
"Varg."  
  
He turned to face his superior. "Commander, I regret my actions. I . . . "  
  
"Lieutenant, you had your duty. I would expect nothing more." This was true, but for Varg it didn't make this conversation any easier. However, Styne seemed prepared to continue. "I have missed much of late. What are the latest patrol reports?"  
  
"I . . . I cannot discuss this."  
  
"Varg?"  
  
"I have been reassigned," he explained. "I have been ordered not to discuss anything of a sensitive nature with you."  
  
"I see." Styne thought for a moment. "But Varg, how can it be sensitive information if the event has passed?"  
  
It seemed to be standard practice for Lieutenants like Varg not to rise above their rank. The general assumption was that they had been bred not to make decisions, just to follow orders. Other commanders might have tolerated Varg, but Styne had always treated him as an equal. Even now, he was trying to persuade Varg to think on his feet. Not to catch him out on some pretext, but to encourage him. "Your argument is a sound one, Commander," he admitted. "Yesterday we travelled to the Alsion cluster."  
  
"And?"  
  
"All was quiet for much of the patrol. Then in the final hour we came upon a space cruiser in neutral space." Varg paused. "Our orders were to open fire. The cruiser was completely destroyed. No survivors."  
  
Styne sighed. "Hardly a glorious death for them."  
  
"Commander?"  
  
"Varg, for what reason did the patrol go the Alsion cluster?"  
  
"To create a tactical advantage in our war against the Rutan." Varg had recited the answer word for word, like a mantra.  
  
Styne tried again. "Varg, the Alsion cluster is too far a distance to matter as far as the war is concerned. So how can it be deemed to be of military importance?" He could sense Varg struggling to accept this fact. It was how he had felt at first, he remembered. "You know as well as I where the agreed borders lie in the war. And yet time and again our patrols have travelled beyond those lines."  
  
Styne paused, and looked at Varg. The Lieutenant remained silent, not wishing to agree, but reluctant to speak out. "Varg, you know your duty. But do you also recognise your honour?"  
  
*****  
  
The summons had not been entirely unexpected. After recent events, Styne was not surprised. He had been lax in covering his tracks and would have to do better.  
  
"Ah, Styne. Enter." He did so, stood to attention and waited. The Grand Marshall approached. "Our previous meeting was left unfinished."  
  
Styne said nothing. "If I remember correctly from Lieutenant Varg's report," the Marshall continued, "you ordered that no further engagements were to be initiated. Is this correct?"  
  
"Yes, Grand Marshall."  
  
"And what gave you the right to make such an order?"  
  
Styne looked the Marshall squarely in the eye. "The honour of the Sontaran Empire."  
  
The Grand Marshall stared, open-mouthed. "You overreach yourself, Commander," he warned, recovering his composure. "You, what do you know of honour?" There was no reply. "I have seen death and carnage, Styne. More than you will ever know. You think I became Grand Marshall by right? By privilege? No, it was days and nights fighting to bring our race out of the slum. Our Empire was created on the battlefield, and since then I have fought to preserve it as the powerful symbol that it is today. And it survives through strength. Any sign of weakness has to be . . . "  
  
"Destroyed?" offered Styne.  
  
"Yes, destroyed." The Marshall latched onto that single word. "Our strength comes from power, and through that power we achieve greatness. That is our right!"  
  
"Eliminate the weak." Styne rallied.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Punish the unworthy."  
  
"Of course."  
  
Styne paused. "No matter what the cost."  
  
"Yes!" The Grand Marshall realised his slip immediately. "No, I . . . "  
  
"You would do anything to preserve your ideals, Grand Marshall," Styne said bitterly. "Even to the extent of murdering your own kind."  
  
"You dare!" ranted the Marshall. "You dare accuse me. You, who thought your assignations with the Myo went unnoticed!"  
  
"I deny nothing," Styne declared. "At least the Myo are honest."  
  
"Freaks! A stain that should have been wiped from our culture long ago."  
  
"They are our heritage. They are our truth!"  
  
"Truth?" The Grand Marshall advanced on Styne. "Your association with them has contaminated your brain. Commander? Hah! You are no more than Sontaran scum!"  
  
"How the guilty condemn themselves," remarked Styne.  
  
For a moment the Grand Marshall was nonplussed. Then he realised his choice of words. The words he uttered long ago as a Sontaran Commander lay dead at his feet. "But that recording was destroyed!"  
  
Styne regarded his superior with contempt. "Your whole life has been a lie, and your beliefs have tainted what was once a great Empire."  
  
"No! I did it for Sontara, for our people."  
  
"What you did was unforgivable." Styne paused. "It was you who declared the cloning process as the next great step. The future for our race. You divided our people, and shunned those who dared to live as individuals. You denied our ancestry.  
  
"During one of our great battles, you happened upon one of our own - a Commander, mortally wounded. He might have lived, but because of his chance encounter with other species, and your narrow minded ideals, you murdered him."  
  
"He was a danger to our future," the Grand Marshall protested.  
  
"Or the key to it," Styne countered. "And now, you order patrols out to the farthest reaches of the known galaxies, far beyond the recognised borders, to annihilate other races for no other reason than to impose your will - a show of strength against solitary worlds who never knew of our war with the Rutan."  
  
"Strategic advantages!" The Grand Marshall was babbling now.  
  
"All lies, to suit your version of how history will remember us."  
  
"Perhaps," the Grand Marshall conceded. "But you, Styne, will not survive to see it happen." And he smiled. "Though you and I are both unarmed, you will find that Varg is not."  
  
Styne spun around to see Lieutenant Varg enter the Marshall's office, his sidearm raised. "You see, Styne, I heard your conversation with your former Lieutenant - listening devices are so vital in high office - and it seems that Varg has decided where his loyalties lie." He turned to Varg. "We have an intruder here, Lieutenant. What do we do with intruders?"  
  
"We shoot them, Grand Marshall." Varg's face was impassive.  
  
"Then do your duty, Varg. Shoot him down!"  
  
For a moment no one moved. The three of them stood silently, each watching the other. "Varg, I gave you an order."  
  
Varg hesitated, unsure.  
  
"Lieutenant," the Grand Marshall bellowed. "This intruder is dangerous! A threat to the continued existence of the Sontaran race! Kill him!"  
  
Varg turned to face Styne. "I know my duty." Then to the Grand Marshall. "But I also recognise my honour." Sidearm raised, he fired. Twice.  
  
The Grand Marshall stared in horror and surprise as the discharge from the energy bolts enveloped him. Then he fell to the floor, dead.  
  
Styne let out a deep breath. "For a moment I thought you had made your choice."  
  
"I had," Varg admitted, "but I believe I have now chosen correctly." They looked down at the body. "What happens now? Is this the end?"  
  
Styne shook his head. "No, not the end. This day marks the start of a new chapter on Sontara. But we must tread carefully."  
  
"I don't understand, Commander."  
  
"Varg, the Empire as we know it still exists. Together, we have taken the first steps in restoring it to its former glory."  
  
"But the Grand Marshall is dead . . . "  
  
"And another will follow him," Styne reminded him. "Possibly with the same ideals."  
  
Varg was shocked. "Then what have we accomplished? And what can we do, a lone Commander and his Lieutenant?"  
  
Styne smiled. "Varg, if I have learned anything in these days past, I know that we are not alone. There will be others like us, perhaps born from the same hatchings as ourselves, who believe as we do. They need to be traced. And there are the Myo; Purebloods who can teach us the true history of our race."  
  
The two of them march out from the recently deceased Grand Marshall's office. Varg was still full of questions. "You once asked me why do we fight. But what are we fighting for now? For power or glory?"  
  
"Neither," Styne replied. "We fight for the honour of the New Sontaran Empire."  
  
And they walked on, to a new future.  
  
THE END? 


End file.
